by Robert Thier
“Um…I don't have any,” Ayla pointed out, her ears turning red again.
“Not yet,” the woman replied with a twinkle in her eye. “That’s what Saint Matilda’s for, after all—and that young man of yours.”
Ayla pressed her hand one final time and hurried away before her ears could burn off from embarrassment.
Feeling she needed some fresh air to clear her head and cool off her ears, she went into the courtyard. She expected to see some people there—maybe a few soldiers lounging about, recuperating from the exhausting battle last night. But she saw not a single one. Only at the gate there stood two soldiers, as straight as rulers, their eyes wide open, spears clutched firmly in their hands.
“Your sense of duty is very commendable,” she said, approaching them with a smile. “But I would have thought you had earned a day in bed. The enemy is beaten, after all.”
They bowed simultaneously, their backs stiff enough for a parade.
“The enemy is never far away, Milady!” declared the one on the left, as if it were one of the ten commandments.
“We must be always vigilant, Milady!” exclaimed the other in the exact same tone.
Their eyes never moved. When they had finished with their bow, they just stood mute, staring forward.
“Um…I'm sure you do,” she said hesitantly.
“It is our greatest honor to serve you, Milady,” they proclaimed in unison. “We would die for you if you commanded, Milady. Your word is our command.”
“Well, thanks.” Bewildered, Ayla looked from one impassive face to the other. What was going on here? “Do you know where everybody is?”
“Outside, Milady.”
“Thank you.”
The soldier bowed again, even deeper this time. “There is no need to thank me, Milady. It is the greatest honor in the life of this unworthy worm to serve a lady such as yourself!”
Quickly, Ayla hurried out through the inner gate in search of the rest of their soldiers. Had they all been struck by a strange epidemic? Some form of madness? She couldn't explain this strange behavior any other way. And what of Reuben? He had recently come into contact with the soldiers a lot. Had he contracted the same illness?
In the outer courtyard, she found Reuben. He was standing there in his red armor, hands on his hips and a self-satisfied grin on his face as he oversaw his work. Ayla's eyes widened, and she stopped in her tracks when she saw what was going on:
Several soldiers, armed with broomsticks and dustpans, were clearing the courtyard of all remainders of the battle in record speed. Others were atop the wall, running laps around the castle in full armor. A third group practiced archery at an improvised range erected against the soldiers barracks. Ayla noticed that the targets were arranged in such a way that if the soldiers wouldn't hit them, their stray arrows would punch through the wall of their barrack and probably bury themselves in one of their mattresses. That would yield uncomfortable nightly surprises.
What in God’s name…?
“Reuben,” she demanded, marching forward to stand beside him, “what is going on here?”
“Ah, Milady.” Smirking, Reuben gave a little bow. Then he turned to the soldiers again, with a proud look in his eyes. “I'm glad you have seen fit to visit us. Everything is coming along wonderfull, don't you think?”
“Well, I can't really say, because I still don't know what exactly is happening here!”
“Isn't it obvious? We are training.”
“We?” inquired Ayla, looking at Reuben, who, unlike everybody else in the courtyard, leisurely leaned against a barrel, not moving a muscle.
“Of course,” Reuben said, not getting her meaning. “These fellows were quite lax at the beginning, but it is amazing what a little discipline will do. You there!”
Ayla jumped back as Reuben suddenly turned his voice into a deafening roar that could be heard across the entire courtyard. His shout seemed to be directed at a man who had just entered the gate. Ayla frowned. The gate? But hadn't the portcullis been inoperable? Now, it seemed to be perfectly fine. It was raised for the man to enter, and then immediately closed again.
“Report!” Reuben yelled, his voice slightly, but not very much, lower. The soldier came running over and stopped abruptly about five feet from them, bowing first to Ayla, then to Reuben.
“Greetings, Milady. Greetings, Sir Reuben. All has been done as you wished, Sir Reuben, Sir.”
“The scouts?” the red knight growled.
“Are out searching the country in all directions. One has been sent to the village and one to the enemy camp. Men stand ready to retrieve them from danger if they do not return at the set time. A party to plunder the enemy camp of any useful weapons and items is being assembled as we speak, Sir!”
“You have done passable work. You may now join the archery practice. Stay an hour longer than the others. Just because I had an errand for you does not mean I can afford for you to be a worse archer.”
“Yes, Sir Reuben! Thank you, Sir Reuben! It is my greatest honor to serve, Lady Ayla!”
Bowing two more times, he turned on the spot and ran off towards the archery range. Ayla looked after him, open-mouthed.
“Beautiful, don't you think?” Reuben asked as he proudly watched the soldier snatching up a bow and arrow, sneaking an anxious glance over his shoulder at his new commander.
“Um, yes, I'm sure…but don't you think this is a bit harsh?” Ayla indicated. “After all, we've won the feud. It's peacetime.”
“The best time to prepare for a war is when there isn't one going on,” Reuben declared. “When there is, you're often too busy fighting.”
“Yes, but maybe…”
“What?”
Maybe you should do what I say because I'm the mistress of this castle.
But then again, she had put him in charge of defense, and he probably knew what he was doing. She would give it two weeks, she decided. If none of her men had collapsed from exhaustion by then, it was probably all right.
“Nothing,” she said brightly. “Carry on. Just one more thing…”
“Yes?”
“Would you like to come on a ride with me later? I have to survey the damage outside the castle.”
Plus, that would give her men at least a small rest break. While he was gone, he couldn’t hound them.
He smiled his most ravishing smile and indicated a bow. “It would be my pleasure, Milady. As soon as my patrols have returned and assured me that the enemy camp is empty and all of Luntberg is completely safe.”
“Wonderful.” Once again, a warm feeling rose in Ayla's heart. “It has been far too long since I have ridden Eleanor.”
“The same goes for me and Satan.”
The warm feeling disappeared in a puff of sulfur. Ayla scowled. “Are you going to rename him or not?” she demanded.
His smile widening into a devilishly handsome grin, Reuben shook his head. “Not ever.”
“You will! I'll make you, you'll see. I'll think of something.”
“I shall look forward to it, Milady.”
Turning, Ayla went back the way she had come. She made sure that Reuben was out of hearing range before she allowed the giggle that had been building up inside her to burst forth. Somehow, suddenly, the fact that his horse was named after the lord of the pit and king of demons didn't seem like such a horrible thing after all. Not if he smiled at her like that.
As she stepped into the inner courtyard again, both guards bowed deeply.
“Did you find everything you wished for, Milady?” they asked in unison, eyes straight.
“Yes, I did, thank you.”
“There's no need to thank us, Milady. It is the greatest honor for us unworthy worms to serve…”
“Don't worry,” Ayla interrupted them with a mild smile. “Sir Reuben is busy hounding the others. He can't hear you.”
The guards halted.
“Really?” The left one asked hopefully, raising his gaze to meet her eyes. Before that, he ha
d been looking deferentially at the ground.
“Really,” she assured him.
“Oh, thank God!” He slumped against the wall behind him, wiping sweat from his face. “You don't know how it's been, Milady! Always thinking he's behind you, and just when you don't, he's suddenly there and starts shouting in your ear 'Stand straight!' and 'Eyes Front!' and what else he comes up with! It's been hell on earth, Milady, let me tell you!”
“You have my sympathies,” Ayla offered. “I'll take him out for a ride later. You can sneak off for a mug of ale.”
The guards sighed in contentment.
“Heaven's gifts are plentiful,” the left one remarked.
“And varying in quality,” the other guard reminded him. “Don't forget he'll be coming back.”
“That's right.” The left guard made a face. “I'd better learn to stand with a board tucked into my tunic.”
“This fellow, Reuben,” the other guard wanted to know of Ayla, “will he be moving along soon, now that the siege is over? Or will he be staying longer?”
Ayla blushed. “I think so. At least, I hope so. Much longer.”
The left guard, who seemed to be the quicker of the two, must have picked up on the dreamy, far-off look in her eyes. His eyes widened.
“Milady! You aren't going to…with him?”
“If he wants me.”
The two guards looked at each other.
“And we thought we had something to complain about,” the left one said. The right one nodded, and then bowed to Ayla again.
“May God have mercy on you, Milady.”
To Ride Over Ashes and Meadows
On their first ride out of Luntberg, Ayla discovered that the valley wasn't nearly as idyllic as it had seemed from the window of her castle chamber. Where once the village had stood, only piles of ash and blackened pieces of half-burned timber remained.
Ayla had to struggle hard to keep the tears back at the sight. Many times, she had ridden or walked through the village as a child. She knew everything as well as her own castle. There, the carpenter's shop was supposed to be; there, the smithy. There were only ruins. Even the little village church had not escaped the godless mercenaries: it was burned to the ground.
“We will rebuild,” she said, her voice quivering only slightly. “We will rebuild everything, just as it was.”
“Yes. We will.” Reuben, sitting beside her on the black stallion with its infernal name he still refused to change, took her hand and squeezed it gently. The burnt village didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. On one level, that was reassuring. On another, it was slightly frightening.
Lots of things about him were slightly frightening. Ayla bit her lip. She would have to start asking someday.
“You have seen fighting and destruction like this before, haven't you?”
To her surprise, he laughed lightly. “Would I have taken command of your liegemen if I hadn't, Milady?”
“No, I suppose not.” Once again, she hesitated. “What did you see? One feud? Two? Fights against bandits?”
She dared not look at him. It was the first time she had really asked questions about his past. They were just the first trickle of a flood of questions she had for him. She wanted to know everything about him! Where did he come from? What about his family? How did he lose them? How did he become like he was?
But she was still too afraid to ask that.
“Oh yes, I saw feuds and raiders.” Reuben's voice was devoid of any amusement now. His eyes were burning with gray fire. “Fought them, too, more than once or twice. More than a dozen or a hundred times, in fact. And wars, crusades, countless battles, sieges of cities and castles ten times the size of yours, long marches under the desert sun, and cold dungeons miles under the ground. I have seen more men die than I have seen alive. I have seen a lot of things, Ayla, many of which I'd rather not remember.”
A shiver ran down Ayla's back. She had gotten her answer, and it only stirred up more questions in her.
“You were in a crusade?” She whispered, awed. “Did you win back the holy city?”
“Ha!” He wagged a finger at her, suddenly grinning again. “I said that I saw a crusade, not that I fought in it on the side of the Christians.”
Her mouth popped open.
“You didn't…you couldn't have…”
“The Saracens are very nice people,” he said with a perfectly faked innocent look on his face. “Besides, they pay really well.”
He was jesting! He had to be! Of that, Ayla was absolutely sure. Well, almost. Not even Reuben would betray his faith and fight on the side of the enemy, would he?
The same Reuben that rode through the forest, cheerfully robbing helpless maidens?
The same Reuben that swore by the devil instead of God?
The same Reuben that put his hand into flame without flinching?
Yes, he would.
Ayla decided she had had enough truth for one day. It was time to change the subject. “I think,” she said pointedly, “we should start rebuilding efforts there.” And she pointed to the church. Glaring meaningfully at Reuben, she added, “I think we're going to need it, don't you?”
He didn't reply. He had bent over the saddle to pick something from the ground. When he resurfaced, he held a little daisy in his hand that had grown on one of the heaps of ash.
“There, you see?” he said, holding out the flower to her. “Rebuilding efforts have already begun.”
She took the tiny thing from him, stroking the petals with her fingertips. Suddenly, her throat was too tight for words. How could this be the same man who ripped his enemies to bloody shreds and traveled the land looting and pillaging?
Reuben leaned towards her. Taking her hand in his, he brought it up and gently pressed his lips on it. From under long, dark lashes, he sought and caught her gaze.
“My love for you blooms and grows a thousand times more quickly than the most beautiful flower, Milady.”
Ayla, her heart hammering with fearful joy, was just trying to come up with something to say to that when, from behind her, she heard snickering. When she and Reuben turned, all the guards in their escort stood as straight as the Luntberg castle towers, desperately trying to keep their faces empty.
“Who was that,” Reuben asked in a deceptively soft tone. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, the weapon half-drawn.
“What?” Ayla asked and lifted an eyebrow. “I didn't hear anything.”
The men tried not to let their relief show. Reuben slammed his sword back into its sheath.
“Well, I did,” he proclaimed. “And it had better not happen again.”
“Oh, stop acting so grumpy.” Turning forward again, Ayla stroked her lovely little flower. “You'll scare all the birds off.”
“First I have to become her vassal, now she won't even let me discipline my own men!” Reuben complained to the world. “This is what comes of trying to remember those cursed rule of chivalry!” He turned back to Ayla, that devilish grin she loved so much on his face. “I should just tie you to a tree and get on with it!”
Ayla gulped.
Why does he want to tie me to a tree? And “get on with”? What exactly does he want to get on with?
“I like it when you're trying to be chivalrous. It's very sweet.”
Reuben scowled. “What if I don't what to be sweet?”
“Too bad.” She grinned up at him. “Besides, that's not the only reason I like it. It's nice to see you struggle with something for a change.”
“Is that so?” His gray eyes sparkled. “Well, be careful what you say. I just might take you to the archery range one day, to see you struggle with something.”
Ayla looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Me? Handling a bow? Are you out of your mind?”
“Very well then,” he whispered, leaning closer. His hand traveled up her arm, caressing her skin through the light fabric of her dress. “If I want to watch you struggle, we can skip the archery range and go straigh
t to your bedchamber.”
Ayla leaned back and smacked his hand away.
“I notice,” she said tartly, “that you've stopped being chivalrous.”
“So?” Reuben asked, not in the least embarrassed. “Are we going?”
Rather than answer, Ayla turned her back on him to conceal her blush. She faced her soldiers. They had now reached the middle of the former village. It was time to do what they had come to do.
“You eight over there,” she commanded, pointing to one of the two columns that had followed them. “Split up into pairs and search the village in each direction. See if there are any mercenaries still hiding here and if there's anything in the way of building material that can be reused.”
They bowed. With a resounding “Yes, Milady!” they hurried off, considerably more quickly than they had the last time she had given them an order.
“You have saved your people from certain doom,” Reuben commented. “And they love and respect you all the more for it.”
“Maybe.” A small smile tugged at Ayla’s lips. “Or it may be that they're afraid you'd tan their hides if they don't do what they're told right away.”
“Well, yes, that might be part of it.”
“Modesty, Sir Reuben? Are you getting chivalrous again?”
“Only for you, Milady.”
“I am honored, Sir Knight.”
It wasn't long before the soldiers returned. Their report was as had to be expected.
“There's really nothing left, Milady,” one of the men said after they had compared their findings. “They burned this place good and proper. Even the pigs’ stalls are gone. We'll have to rebuild from the ground up.”
Ayla sighed. “Well, we knew that's how it would be, didn't we? We'll just have to start rebuilding soon and put a lot of effort in it.”
When Reuben said nothing, she looked sideways at him. He normally wasn't very shy about airing his opinions, to put it mildly. She found him frowning and looking into the distance with an unusually thoughtful expression in his gray eyes.
“What's the matter?” she asked. “Is there something wrong?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don't think so. But if you want my opinion…hold off on the rebuilding for a few days yet. I want to re-check the area. The mercenary army is gone, but we should still be careful.”
